


Learning to Fall

by Sarina_Argus



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 22:01:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19385461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarina_Argus/pseuds/Sarina_Argus
Summary: That scene with the soul stone.   Yeah, that scene in Natasha's mind.





	Learning to Fall

Learning to fall

One of the first things we learned was how to fall. It was easy to teach, we were about to learn how to throw each other around. We would partner up, then our partners would pick us up and throw us to the ground. From this, we’d learn the correct way to fall without injuring ourselves too badly.

The first thing they say is protect your head. If you’re falling, try turning to one side and tuck your head. That way, you can use your hands to cushion your head. Also if you turn to your side, the chance of injuring your vital organs is minimized.

“DAMN YOU!”

I remember one of the last times falling together. In Budapest. From that fourth-story window, tangled in white gauzy curtains, desperate to escape the bullets flying after us. We landed on that awning first, which, of course, ripped. But by that time, we were only about 12 feet off the ground. I remember running across the street still wrapped in white curtains, you at my back, yelling something about the dinner we were supposed to be having. I just kept running looking for a way out. The Citroen we ended up boosting had a lunchbox in it, one of those old metal ones that looked like a mailbox. There was a huge roast beef sandwich, some crisps, a very bruised apple, and a thermos of coffee. We drove that car into the countryside, bailing out with the lunch box, and ended up splitting the sandwich in the trees near the Farkashegyi Airport. You commandeered the apple, griping that the crisps in Europe had nothing on the chips from America. I munched on the chips, disagreeing. American chips were too salty, I countered. You were adamant. European crisps had all these weird flavors like borsht, marine, chicken, haggis or even watermelon. I maintained they weren’t any weirder than Pickle or Cincinnati Chili, or Cajun Crawtator. I mean come on, what the heck is a crawtator?

“Let me go.”

Another thing they tell you is not to fall on your hands, knees, arms, or the like, or you’ll risk breaking a bone or joint or something else. They tell you to try to brace on something fleshy, like your thigh, butt or shoulder. Something meaty. Something to cushion the fall. Cushion your landing.

“No. Please, no…”

I think I broke my tailbone once, thanks to you. Sliding down some tiled roof in Greece, flying off the edge, catching my ass on a gutter somewhere, then falling to the street. We made it to the ground in one piece, but my coccyx never forgave me for that trip. We still got you home in time for Laura’s birthday party, so it was worth it.

“It’s ok.”

One of the hardest things to learn is not to fight the fall. Thrashing about expends too much energy, makes you disoriented, and in turn, makes you panic. Instead of flailing, the idea is to orient your body to the ground so when you hit, you can hit and shift your body weight to break up that impact. Martial artists and stunt men do the same thing. Distribute the weight over the widest possible area. Kids do this the best, mostly because they’ve not learned to be afraid of looking ‘uncool’ when they hit the ground. 

I feel my wrist slip from your hand and turn into the fall. I know I’ll take the brunt of the impact on my shoulders. Hopefully, I’ll snap my neck on impact, making it quick, painless. I watch your eyes as you get smaller and smaller in my view. I can see tear drops following me down, but I’m not sure if they’re yours or mine. I’m trying not to anticipate the landing. I just want to watch you. I want my last living moments to be seeing your face, knowing you’ll get to go home to your wife, to your kids. I want to know I did something right. 

Tell Laura I’ll watch over you. Tell the kids Aunt Nat loves them very much. Tell Steve to talk to that girl at the Starbucks. Tell Pepper to take care of Tony. Tell Thor his hammer was surprisingly light. Tell Bruce I’m sorry. 

My ledger is clear.


End file.
